Majestic Montrals
by TheMostCunningJedi
Summary: During downtime on Coruscant, Anakin passes the time in his quarters mulling over how to best improve the mechanics of his arsenal. One day, Ahsoka decides to be his muse for the next customization on his starfighter. One-shot. Anisoka AU.
Anakin handed her the holopad back with a look of contemplation and slight mocking in his tone.

"Ahsoka, you already learned this in your studies with Master Nu right after we were recalled from the Cato Neimoidia campaign!"

"Oh, really? Wow. It's been so long since I've had any time to study my holojournals in complete peace without the roar of an aerial gunship, I'm going in circles."

Placing the holopad down and sighing, she decided to further seek emotional counsel from the only source she found herself eager to hear back from in this rigorous war.

"You don't find it hard? Readjusting to being... well, here. Isn't the silence a bit deafening after so many battle cries?"

They had been back home for a standard three weeks now, after being called back due to a successful cracking of Separatist codes that ended up mobilizing the local police and Jedi in the tracking of Darth Sidious, taking them through extensive previously-uncovered tunnels leading from the industrial areas of the city to 500 Republica and the Senate itself.

"Well, that's why I come here," he replied. "This is my distraction. It's been that way since I was a boy. And you're completely making it too loud for me to focus on getting distracted." He jokingly motioned her with the spray paint can in a faux attempt to spatter her with the substance.

They were in his personal quarters, where he was in the process of outfitting his Jedi starfighter model with various sticker emblems and overlapping paint jobs in an effort to see how to best personalize the aircraft further. Most fellow Jedi suspected it was the clones and their outstanding creativity in the customizing of their aircrafts with various artworks that inspired him to start "doodling" as they said. It was true to an extent, however, Anakin was always bursting with a penchant to put his mark on things – it didn't disappear when he stepped foot in the Temple. He always took pride in the special modifications he made on the several parts lying around Watto's shop; improvements that made a difference on the products' efficiency and made customers happy and satisfied. It brought him joy to do some good in even the smallest of ways. Posters of the Boonta Eve Classic podrace he won his freedom in and of other several other preceding races he had collected as a youngster hung on his walls. You can take the boy out of Mos Espa but you can't take the Mos Espa out of the boy.

"I'm just kidding, Snips. You're free to watch me work anytime. As long as I get to watch you perfect your reverse grip in YOUR quarters," Anakin remarked to her with a long wink as he walked back over to the table where the Jedi starfighter model rested, faintly looking back to catch a glimpse of her reaction.

Her bright blue eyes stretched out with bewilderment as she realized the full extent of what he had just implied.

Ever since her lekku and montrals had reached maturity's length, she had started practicing her saber form in her personal quarters in nothing but undergarments. The less fabric and weight bogging her down the better, for it wasn't exactly lightweight carrying around the pointy horns and headtails common of her species.

She recalled an unforgettable morning from about a standard three months ago when in an effort to shake off some vicious nightmares, she began to tango with her two sabers very early in the morning. So caught up in the reactionary and instinct defenses to the two practicing remotes hovering and shooting all around her, she had completely forgotten about Anakin's daily routine of bringing her breakfast in bed from the cafeteria whenever they were staying coincidentally in the Temple.

At his arrival, he punched in the memorized entry code and looked back to see the blast door of her personal quarters close off, turning to face the Togruta fully awake and moving with the feline agility so often seen in her kind, clothed in nothing but her see-through lace undergarments.

As he dropped the silver tray carrying both of their respective first meals of the day, she finally was honed in to his presence, commencing immediately to shut off the remote and rush toward the spilled food and drinks on the floor, exasperatingly remarking, "Oh force! I'm so sorry! Here! Let me help you with that!"

He remained immobile, with his hands drawn out as if they were still carrying the tray. She had successfully scooted over to where he and the spills remained to clean up the mess, making minimum effort to conceal herself in the process. Yet in an instant, she had taken notice he remained completely still, mesmerized by the sight of her, with lips that seemed sown and eyes that were prisoners as much to the sight before them, as to the inner mind they were attached too. She too went motionless.

Crouching down to finally meet her at eye level, he cupped her cheek with this robotic glove, almost breathing out the words into her very soul, "You're beautiful." In the very same shaky breath, she grabbed the glove by reach of her own left hand and pressed it harder to her face with a relaxing smile, replying, "You are too."

The distance between them was to crack at any moment now, with Ahsoka tilting her head to kiss Anakin's gloved hand in a gesture of her acceptance of all the flesh and mechanical wirings that made him the man he is.

Things came to a halt when suddenly the remote made its presence known again, breaking out of its timed-break sleep mode and eschewing out blaster bolts all across the cramped living space, cutting off the intimate encounter between the two.

She ran to disable the hovering ball for good as it snapped her out of her gaze and sprinted into the refresher with faster speed than in employing a force sprint. With the blast door tightly closed behind her, she leaned her rear lek against the frame, contemplating the significance of the breathtaking moment she had just shared with her Master.

In one of the recent times they had landed back on Coruscant, she had taken note of the abrupt stop of Anakin's late-night outings from the Temple to what she surmised where visits to Senator Amidala's fancy vistas in her 500 Republica apartment. He had stormed in late during the council's briefing the first night back from the campaigns but not with the shaggy curls typical from those mornings after. Instead, she caught of a whiff of some Mon Cala wine sprouting from his sleepy and stumbling stance. Her suspicions of a rift between him and the Nubian Senator were confirmed when she started spotting him in the residential hallways of the Temple every night afterward. In that same time, they made watching holofilms in her quarters together an almost-nightly occurrence, followed by breakfast in bed.

Still, she had to ponder. Was she just a rebound? Eventually she snapped out of living in her own head with a soft laugh, coming to the realization that if Anakin ever looked to do any post-breakup rehabilitation, he did it by taking a stroll through the various interactive virtual pod racing games the underworld's entertainment district was ripe with; a bottle of Mon Cala wine in hand, never with a tactic hurting her or anyone else he cared about in the process.

So, had they finally come to a collision course? Her heart fluttered at the thought of her and Anakin reveling in more affections of their intimate and affectious bond. She wanted to express her deep infatuation and appreciation for all the various intricacies that made him tick in the wonderful manner they do, in all the ways possible. He was a mess, he was an outsider, he was too much, he was lacking; she was reckless, she was ostracized, she interfered, she needed to give others more space. Their collective divergent nature from the rest of the Order shaped them together to be a unit that sooner or later was going to grow even closer beyond the nature of Master and Padawan. More challenges awaited them beyond the ivory towers that housed them, and they had zero desire to overstay their welcome after the defeat of their enemy. Survival had very little appeal to her if it wasn't at his side. As odd it was, he made the blood, sweat, and tears a fun and rewarding course to run. He wasn't a consolation prize only to meet at the end, he was in the fray with her, and that made the celebratory aftermath much more interesting. In the refresher after the battle, he would wipe the blood and sweat from her skin and sew her scars, with later she returning the favor. On the fringe, on the edge, on the run. Loving and living dangerously. Neither she nor he would want it any other way.

Now in his quarters, she made little attempt to follow up on his insatiable wink and remark, instead opting that two can play this game.

"How about you take a page from the boys, and their 'Lucky Lekku?'" she inquired him seductively as she rested her head on his left shoulder, overlooking the starship model.

The infamous LAAT gunship apparently had made enough of an impact to stay in Ahsoka's memory countless battles after the initial victories and losses of the war.

"Go on," Anakin replied in intrigue at both her suggestion and sudden proximity.

"Hm, I don't know. You can call it," she leaned in closer, hugging onto his frame as in to whisper into his ears, "the Majestic Montrals?"

With a nervous giggle, he crossed his arms in a mocking defiance and turned to face her as she slithered from his grip.

"Oh, really? And might I ask where you got the inspiration for that?"

"I told you! The clones."

He gently shook his head, rubbing his eyelids, and letting out a laugh. Oh, how determined and equally-disingenuous she was when she wanted to play and have things go her way.

Making her way towards his wardrobe space where he kept his Jedi tunics hung, she quickly took one off the rack and placed it atop her own clothing.

"Well, what ya think?" she inquired in a higher-than-usual pitch of voice and slanted posture typical of a runway model at the end of the catwalk. "I sleep in these with nothing else on all the time when you're away. I think that makes me the best candidate for you to model the design on." A cheeky smile and wink of her own crept on her face.

With his arousal now at an all-time high, he simply blew out a whistle, and looked her up and down all the while she commenced biting her dark lips as she took notice of the sweat building on his hairline.

"I think you've sold your pitch very well, Ahsoka. Let me get my holorecorder to snap you in the tunic for reference to later apply on the ship."

Making a light squeal, she proceeded to turn back to the wardrobe and picked the tightest tunic he had.

"I hope you don't mind," she said in that same nearly-breathless voice that took both of them out of their bodies for what seemed an eternity during their more intimate moments. "If I change in here. It'll take me forever to get to my quarters and come back here."

In a reserved stance and now-relaxed facial expression, he broke the silence with the very same corresponding tone, "No. I don't mind."

Her eyes were locked onto his as if it was the last time they'd ever see each other again. She began to get out of the gray tank top, arm by arm, and soon the only thing holding up and covering her breasts were her bare arms. Both his and hers mouths were open and breathing in and out, with no words eager to come out. It was just the distance, merely the sight, and their perfectly-coordinated deep breaths, once again covering them with an aura of insight, satisfaction, and embrace unbeknownst to either of them.

He walked towards her, cupping her elbows from the crossed-arms pose she was employing to hold up her top with, and commenced to rest his forehead on hers. Eyes closed, they swayed in such position for a few seconds before they opened their eyes almost simultaneously. Looking up to him and being in reach of his lips, she relaxed her shoulders, and began to move her arms downward to drop the tank top to the floor.

And that was when his comlink started buzzing and ringing like the emergency sirens on a Republic cruiser about to implode. At least that's the edge the silence of his quarters and overall buzzkill gave the interruption. Anakin turned his back from Ahsoka to receive the transmission.

"General Skywalker," spoke loudly and frantically Rex.

"What is it, Rexter?"

"I've just received word from Generals Ti and Windu we have been ordered to make an advance scouting on The Works soon based on the latest Intel acquired from Dooku's assassin, Ventress. You and Commander Tano's presence is requested."

"Alright, Rex. We'll be down there in a minute."

When he turned back, she was fully dressed again and in the process of putting back on her arm bands.

"So, race you to the hangar?" she cheerfully said with a sudden stamina to get out of the room.

"Already lost," he hit back with a smirk as they bumped on their way out the blast door.

Her pin-up photoshoot would have to wait, as well as with the combustion of all their shared and pent-up passion for each other. She fixated on it as much as she sanely could. For Anakin was the only one she'd put in the work for and was still standing by her. He was the closest she'd get to the "lifetime guarantee" so heavily advertised in the various electronic products found in the Coruscanti malls. But for now, Snips and Skyguy saving the day yet again would do just fine.


End file.
